Savage Plottwists In: Amor
by losttohavoc
Summary: She's always known she was born to die. It's just a matter of Who, What, When, Where and How.
1. PreFace

**New one in the works—check it out; I have **_**NO **_**idea where this headed, only that Bonnie's driving the proverbial car, so join me on the ride if it tickles your fancy**

Inhibition's for pussies. It's her motto if you ever gave enough of a fuck to ask. It's freeing; living the way she does, in the moment, her body doesn't need to produce adrenaline, because she goes to sleep with it in her veins—she doesn't need to be on her toes because she thinks she was _born _that way.  
She's never lived with the questions in her mind; what will I be when I grow up? Who will I marry? Will I ever be happy?  
Maybe when she was younger but not anymore—she understands; she was born to die.

* * *

The night Damon rips into her throat and pulls free her dinner, she slips a second—she allows herself to dream—allows herself in that moment to imagine what death is like, imagine being able to close her eyes at the age of 16—and it downright terrifies her, more so than anything ever has, it chills her to her bones and forces her to scream, rips the scream free and the steady pump of her blood—that's the night she dies. Even after Stefan pumps her full of Vitamin V, she's already dead—she's dead inside because Damon kills the girl with hopes and dreams, kills the girl who cares about pop-culture, and the lives of the rich and douche—kills her like she's nothing. The girl that opens her eyes is one who knows she's born to die.

* * *

She sets Damon on fire the next time she sees him because she deserves it—she tells Elena it's because she's coming into her powers—that she lost control, maybe she is. Maybe she's spiraling, but she does it because he _deserves _it.

* * *

Damon's the first real threat she's ever experienced—he's her first villain, the "Monster" in her life, the hurtle so to speak—and it makes sense to use that analogy because when she met him she wanted to jump him alright; he's the devil though, Lucifer—and it fits because wasn't he an angel? Damon looks like one; all that dark hair, that unmistakable innocent mask he wears from his crystalline eyes to his pouty lips, the body sculpted from marble spray-painted in bad intentions—it makes sense that he'd be Lucifer.

It's a good thing she's always considered herself an atheist—gasp.

* * *

When her grams dies it's only more proof—death dances around her that night in thick hazy clouds that only Bonnie and Shelia can see. It's so filling—the feeling of despair drowns her, she's breathless with it, her eyes disappearing behind her head as it stops her blood flow, she doesn't register the rustling of other bodies—only that the one person who understands—the one person who ever understands is now gone. She's alone in the world, and she's choking on it—choking on the despair, choking on the loss; but not just the loss of her grams—the loss of her innocence, the loss of the girl who had a chance—because it's solidified now, written in the fucking stars; she's born to die.

* * *

Stefan apologizes and she screams internally to make sure she doesn't hear him—if she did she's sure she'd kill him in cold blood.

* * *

Damon doesn't and he'd tell it's because he didn't do anything wrong but it makes her smile to know that he's already afraid of her—he doesn't apologize because he knows that Bonnie would end him.

* * *

**Ben**. It's a name she won't ever forget—Bonnie's shattered now, she carries her pieces around with her in her Gucci purse, she's forgotten what life feels like; breathing and seeing are nature's way of keeping her running—but Ben's there, and he's handsome, and charming and he looks beyond the broken girl Bonnie has begun to embody—that is, until he breaks her beyond repair

Ben is Bonnie's downfall.

* * *

Next come's the Kat. She's some twisted ambiguous vision of desire to the Salvatore's and it sounds like a personal problem to Bonnie—but Elena's gone and got herself involved, so Bonnie has to follow—it's her duty. She loves Elena Gilbert more then she loves her own absent t father most days—the girl is her sister blood or not, she's Bonnie's anchor to reality even if she doesn't know it. So yes Bonnie will walk through the flames for her, she'll stand in it, she'll _cause _it for the brunette because Bonnie's unequivocally sure that Elena would do the same for her

* * *

That is until Elena makes it clear that Damon Salvatore's emotional status is more important than hers.

* * *

Bonnie forgets what consciousness feels like after that. She feels dead.

* * *

Katherine is a **bitch**. However she's a bitch Bonnie respects, a bitch Bonnie _gets_ the girl has balls of steele and Bonnie can relate—so when they talk badly about her she imagines all the reasons behind her actions—why she'd stab Stefan, why she'd choke Bonnie herself out in the foyer of the Lockwood's party, why she'd break Damon into such bite sized pieces that the other world has just got to suffer his wrath and why she'd reduce the _fiery_—can you tell I'm being sarcastic—Elena Gilbert into a wounded puppy and it makes sense to her. It makes sense that a girl with everything to live for would do anything not to die. Katherine is her enemy, but she's the reason Bonnie decides that though she might be born to die, she's got to live like she'll be alive tomorrow.

* * *

Katherine comes to Bonnie one night, she comes to her and she brings Damon Salvatore. Bonnie thinks this is it—she thinks this is the night she gets to stare death in the face—in her freakin' Hulk boy shorts and an off the shoulder camy, barefoot and scared shitless she'll stand there and fight them until it takes her.

"That's why I respect you Bonnie" Katherine says, back and forth along Bonnie's porch, Damon leans against the edge staring at her with those pretty boy eyes.

She hates his fucking guts.

Kat continues "You're out here for a fight when you're clearly overpowered, outnumbered and hopelessly outgunned—I haven't met a girl with balls so hard since—"she grins "—me" Bonnie wants to give her a righteous_ "I'm nothing like you!"_ but she thinks it's utter bullshit so she gives Kat a smile instead

"What's this about honey it's 2am and I've got a life to _pretend_ to live tomorrow" Katherine eats it up, zooms forward so that the only thing separating Bonnie is the threshold of her door

"I'm leaving tonight-I got what i came for. Come _with_ me Bonnie—forget them, forget all of them and come with me; this life isn't for you—I can see it in your eyes, you _get it_, get that life isn't to be lived just to be lived, you get that it's to be lived because you're going to die; come with _us_"

Bonnie looks over at Damon, his eyes are intense when they meet hers

"I hate you" she says quietly, "I hate you so much that it takes my breath away, I've never felt anything like it before, I'm standing here, and the fact that your even on my property has got whatever 6th sense bull-shit in my make-up that fires up the magic stick stirring—I want to watch you burn" she turns back to Katherine "so sorry, Prof. I can't go back to Hogwarts" Katherine gives her a devilish grin.

She steps as close as she can without an invitation, but Damon speaks up first "then use that. Make that your reason for leaving this godforsaken town, because if you stay here, it'll kill you, it'll drain you of all that fire and stand over you as you freeze, the people you love—the ones who love you back? They're lives will go on, they'll bury you, and they'll live with your memory—but that won't mean shit to you, come on and make your life _worth_ something Bonnie, make it your mission to end me and you'll always have a reason to keep breathing"

The logic Surprises her. She says yes.

She _yes_, to the **devil**.

It's the plot-twist of the century.

**So...? Whatdaya think? I wanted to try something different—Season 2's succsess lies in it's potential for "this" to go "the other way" when Katherine was around, they handled Damon's devotion to Katherine beautifully, but I always wondered what might happen if it went the other way, and to me Bonnie has more potential then all of them—I dunno where this is going yet, but stay tuned, I've got ideas. My thoughts are a bit jumbled~**

**As always, Review if you've got the time, if not? Just ****ENJOY**


	2. Track 1 Fuckless Hero

**Alrighty Almighty so here's Chapter 2 (though I like to think of the last chapter as a…opening of sorts), we get a taste of the inner workings of the new team Alpha including some Damon and Kat insight, and we get to see some Magic-y times with Bon so have a look if you please…**

**TRACK #1 – ****Fuckless Hero**

It's an instant it.

*Snap*

Just in the span of time it took to press your sticky little fingers together and snap.

Then she forgets they exist. She's able to let her eyes flutter closed, let a smile blossom on her face, she forgets about her lifeless father—the empty look that seems to always be flirting with his eyes, the way he sighs when he gets home as if to say "here we go again" as if it's a chore to care for her.  
She forgets about her best-friends…the girl who cares for nobody but herself—it's a personality trait she's come to live with—and the one whose just plain oblivious. Stefan isn't even an afterthought.

Then she thinks about now.

* * *

They leave Mystic Falls much like how she expects her life to run from this moment on; fast. They speed out, tires squeaking and homes waking in a sleek black Porche with Damon behind the wheel and she and Kat sitting in the back.

"Let go Bon" she whispers and Bonnie is tempted to correct the bitch—but she thinks that'd put a damper on what promises to be a beautiful friendship.

So she lets go.

* * *

The first stop on the tour is DC, Kat says she's got something—someone to pick up, Bonnie doesn't acknowledge the idea that she's possibly here to kill or maim someone—life's life.

It should frighten her that her mind has already begun to work like there's.

She blames Damon.

Speak of the devil she and he, wait outside the car while Kat trounces inside someone's ratty apartment in heels and leather.

They're quiet before Damon asks it "did you mean it?"

Mama ain't raise no fool—well Grandmamma. Damon is a complex creature—sure, but he's no enigma, he's oblivious to how truly easy he is to read, how the innocence that glimmers in his eyes is more genuine then he can ever understand—how he's never had to suffer through the onslaught of someone else's emotions because for centuries he's had the luxury of not caring—but Bonnie's going to show him you can't ignore it—she's going to show him the consequences of destruction—and then she's going to take his life.

It's all in the pamphlet.

So she answers the way she should "Yup" popping the "P".

* * *

Kat's mouth is bloody when she comes back outside and she's licking her fingers, Damon grins at her and she grins back,

"Finger licking good?" he asks, and Bonnie rolls her eyes "That right there isn't going to make it", Kat laughs and it sounds genuine—but she wonders if Katherine knows how to do genuine.

* * *

They stay in DC for a while; they party and its fun—Bonnie gets another chance to forget, gyrating under flavored lights and glitter balls, to songs with no words and sounds that shouldn't be legal.

She gets drunk on it all so quickly and it's all so effortless that she forgets she's Bonnie Bennett—since becoming a witch she's tried so hard to limit herself, to become what she thought Mystic Falls needed; a hero—strong, and devout… _righteous_—and she was right to think that, she became Wonder Woman to a town that didn't want nor did it deserve her, she saved people who'd want to end her if they knew what she truly was and now that she has the clarity to consider it—here's a personal truth; she never liked Mystic Falls.  
Never liked the small country town, the stifling southern heat, the looks she got—just off the edge of judging reservation—for what she looked like, what her family was—she realizes now, realizes that to her very core she never actually gave a fuck.

We'll no—that's a lie; she cared about Elena Gilbert, about Caroline Forbes, Matt Donovan, Jeremy Gilbert, Tyler Lockwood—and at some point Stefan Salvatore—she cared about those people enough to ignore what she long since identified as the norm, she loved them all enough to get over the fact that she'd reverted to slave days, reverted to being the go-to bitch when shit went left side, she ignored it because their lives meant so much more than her own petty emotions and her even pettier still self-esteem, Death is and was a constant impacting element in her life, she was constantly afraid to hear her phone go off at night in case of loss, she didn't think consciously about what this was doing to her—only to those around her.

She can see it clear as day now—if death itself hadn't come for Bonnie, her friends sure would have.

Her feelings came from _obligation, _maybe the same can't be said for the love of her friends, but her heroics are a different tale—one that Katherine Pierce has graciously re-written—so Bonnie lets loose.

She shuts her eyes and the magic is there—stirring in the very fibers of her being, a silent damnation she will never be able to get rid of, but will always be able to embrace. She digs imaginary fingers into the pot, letting it overwhelm her ,blooming like a flower, petals stretching, taking the shape and length of her limbs—and she feels like a light bulb; her skin glows and she knows she's radiant—the lights of the club seem to brighten, the music growing louder and she can hear people cheering—she's doing this; with just a thought she's tapped into the minds of everyone in the club, she's connected with their wishes and whims and turned the club into their own personal grimy little heavens; she can see it in her mind's eye—topless girls, pant less guys, free wet bars and moans of pleasure—and all of it an invention of her own power, nothing in reality's, reality has changed but she's a goddess tonight and so reality is her plaything, she's altered all that makes them human and so what they see is what they want to see—what she's given them, because she's lost to it, the intoxicating taste of it all—she's laughing and she forgets she can do that—laugh…

..Not dramatic, no, but it's hard to laugh when you're afraid to die.

She doesn't want to be—and no longer is Bonnie Bennett—servant to nature, and obligatory hero, she wants to be Bonnie Fucking Bennett—word class top bitch, entity; desirable, elegant, powerful, it's the choice she makes, the choice that lets her let loose who she wants to be.

Ultimately it's the choice she figures they both _wanted_ her to make.

* * *

She glances there way—there both lost in one another, like crazed animals, Damon's mouth trailing hotly down her throat, Katherine wearing that scissor pointed grin as she yanks at his hair—she's got her Lucy and he's got his Lilith.

* * *

She knows the reason they took her in that moment. The rhyme for the proverbial poem—but she's not naïve, never has she been—and if they want to play chess she'll turn into a world-class champion overnight—she says game on.

He can feel her eyes on him and something about it is incredibly erotic, it makes him step his game, makes him bite and lick and suck until Katherine is writing against his chest—he knows her spots, it's been centuries but he'll never forget.

He can feel Bonnie watching as Katherine yanks at his head, he clutches her petit frame and brushes her swaying form against his pelvis, his nails digging into her hip bones as he basically humps her—he wants Bonnie to see it, he wants her to see—if not for the reason to just have her watch, it's something more internal, wholly primal that he can't put his finger on, maybe doesn't want to put his finger on.

She's gotten under his skin the bitch—he can admit it sub-consciously—maybe it's the verbal chain letter she sent him—maybe it's because she's always been unpredictable as far as how willing she is to go for the sake of good, or maybe it's because he can taste in the air—how much she hates him, wants to see him burn—or maybe, just fucking maybe it's that now that she's no longer aligned he can't see her, he can't fathom her intentions and while the part of him that he can credit to Katherine is so hot for it that he's re-arranging himself with Katherine's hand down his pants, the part of him that's all about "living baby" is scared _shitless_, because she'll do it—she can do it…he can _feel_ her. Her power flowing through the unsuspecting idiots around them, she's a fucking _**goddess.**_

A vision unlike anything in the world—he's compared her to Emily to make her seem inadequate—because it does his heart good to knock her on her ass every now and then, but she's got no competition, the little witch is in a league all her own—a force to be fucked with, some kind of astronomical natural incident where god made an uh-oh and placed the fate of the world in the hands of a teenager—and he knows she's young, she barley understands what she can do—has barley tapped the surface of years of ice placed by her grandmother and some of it done by him, himself—but when she breaks through, touches it, brushes her fingers along the edges of truth—Jesus, Shiva, Thor-and all the others had _better_ be real, because he and everyone else who have managed to hurt her will be needing a prayer session ASAP because they don't stand a chance against the epitome of power—the absolute goddess that is Bonnie Bennett.

* * *

Katherine smiles as Damon bites into her pulse—not hard enough to draw blood, but because the darling likes to show her that he _can._ He's adorable that one. She's not concerned with him right now though—not when she can fucking taste Bonnie Bennett on her tong, not when she can see the tangible colors in the air as Bonnie creates imaginary spirally connections to the all of the flesh bots in the club—turning their dreams into her commands.

She smiles to herself because that's the fucking _ticket—_Phase 1 complete.

**Oh-ho muy mysterioso~ **

**I love writing these three, it flows in my head and wait until the dynamic I'm looking for is established—if I haven't quite got you yet, hold your breath because I will, it's a promise lovely's, now this is a work in progress so there might be alterations but we do have a story—I hope I've got a few of you interested enough to give me a shot**

**Read and If you've got the time PLEASE REVIEW but if not, as always just ENJOY.**


	3. Track 3 Ace of Spades

**Two chapters in a single day? Woza~  
No nonsense—without further a-do…**

**TRACK #2 – Ace of Spades**

Its girl's night when they get New Jersey—and Damon doesn't pout about it—shocking in itself—he kisses Katherine hungrily and leans to kiss Bonnie—playfully she hopes—but she rolls her eyes, waves a hand and sends the Vampire's face in the opposite direction. He makes a declaration to _"get some sugar from her someday"_ and swaggers out of the room.

God does she hate his guts.

When she vocalizes it, Katherine nods knowingly—a universal truth, "but isn't he fucking hot? God he's _so_ hot"

It's hard to remember under all those fucked-up-homicidal-daddy issues that Katherine is just a girl.

* * *

Katherine dresses slutty chic. And Bonnie thinks that she envy's the way Kat knows her beauty and can make sure everyone else knows it too, she doesn't expect this to be a Burlesque moment; but doesn't bitch when it becomes one—Katherine looks so much like Elena in this moment, that cute little smile of concentration as she does up Bonnie's lashes that nostalgia hits hard; Bonnie squirms under it and Kat frowns

"_Hold still bitch"_ she says playfully…

…and Bonnie would swear in that moment that she never left town with Katherine Pierce at all—that she's at Elena Gilberts vanity, that Caroline Forbes is on the bed behind her bitching about her dress size and her pinching stilettos—because she did not grow another size, clearly the fucking thing shrunk in her closet—and Jeremy Gilbert is walking back and forth—"snacking" while on the low he's glancing at Pantie covered asses and lace bras until Elena gets wiser, calls him a freak and slams the door.

It makes Bonnie chuckle inwardly because she'll be damned—if this isn't all an act; Jeremy Gilbert is as _**Gay**_as a sunny day in London.

* * *

Bonnie has fun. She's not out with a soulless skank who slept with brothers because she refused to choose—she's out with a girl who never lived, a girl who has an eternity to _fix_ that problem.

Katherine settles for this skimpy little off the shoulder umber, it's black with lace trimming on the sides and sweeps along her curves like a bed sheet would, held together by her fist

—she thinks it's odd that Katherine is curvier then Elena and there basically the exact same person.

Bonnie herself gets coerced into something almost as blatant, a sheer top with fishnet finish and a pair of leather tights with stilettos—she's sub-conscious until she gets in the club based on the merit of appearance.

Not for the first time Bonnie knows she's done the right thing—leaving with Katherine has in a matter of days changed who she was totally—she's more confident, she's brighter, smarter, happier, homicidal or not Katherine is still a person—and she recognizes that more than she ever has—the subtle ways Katherine flirts—it's never blatant like you'd think it was the way Damon and Stefan use to toss around variations of "slut" when she came up in convo, she's subtle with it—brushing of fingers, thigh touches and exaggerated laughs that rise cocks and boost egos—the girl knows her boys.

Bonnie's not the flirty type—but she's not a rock.

* * *

She and Katherine stalk bars like the predator that she is—and that she wants Bonnie to become, they flirt aimlessly and leave broken hearts when they giggle and deny the many "take home" offers because "oh my _god _there not that type of girls!" cue leg slap—how absurd!

By the fifth club/bar Bonnie's tipsy enough to lead the next endeavor—she settles on a boy that looks an awful lot like her first mistake—blonde, blue eyed and bulky around the arms.

~_Hell-O_

* * *

Bonnie's first—not "first" but first crush was Matt Donovan.

She was eleven years old and it was one of those _*sigh* _slow motion moments when he hopped down from his moving truck with a small bookshelf on his shoulder. It was no harm, no foul that Elena had that moment too.  
It was harmless right? In fact—who better to talk to about your crush then you're BFF?  
They were stupid. _Reallllly _stupid. Matt Donovan had hair as golden as the sun, eyes blue as the ocean and a smile made for melting.  
He was a little sweet heart—not so much little, since he'd already started football; the type to open doors and push boys away when they got to touchy feely, he was the big brother every girl wanted to turn into something more. In her eyes Matt could do no wrong. He was perfect in every way. She had loved him as most do with their first loves; all notebook hearts and without reservation.  
It was the kind of love that knew no bounds because it knew nothing of rejection or disappointment and blinded her to all the things that were staring her right in the face; the way he'd always pick up Elena, first when he learned to drive, or the way he would ask Elena things before asking Bonnie, or the less simple—like his longing looks, or his tightening hugs; If only she hadn't been blind.

…

Matt broke her heart there last year of middle school and she's never gotten over it.  
It was the beginning of her effervescent inadequacy issue's, and countless problems with her self-esteem—but she'd never blame Matt, the little teddy bear would never understand that he did something wrong, he'd never forgive himself for hurting her and he had enough on his plate-

—she'd like to say she didn't think it karma when Elena dumped him but she's a petty bitch; sue her—

—she's not bitter anymore, Matt Donovan is one of her best friends, he always will be, but it's the principle.

* * *

"I'm Nathan" he says—he's totally wasted and it makes him cuter to be quite honest, he's all flushed cheeks and lazy smiles—cuz he thinks she's "cute".

In that moment Bonnie is preying on the week—she _likes_ it. Go figure.

Katherine gives her the proverbial thumbs up, and pulls her boy onto the dance floor to molest and have her way with him—Bonnie knows that ultimately the night will end with him losing a significant amount of blood, but she can't honestly understand how little she cares—how quickly the thought and/worry of his wellbeing vanishes—she thinks to remind herself to worry about how quickly she seems to be losing herself—but it feels so good.

Feels so good to be in control of who she is.

Maybe she's not as a good a person as she once thought. _Maybe_.

* * *

She kisses Nathan and he tastes like Mountain Dew and Vodka—it's a taste she's use to and she knows now he's not much older than her, he kisses her sloppily and he's grinning against her mouth because he thinks he's going to hook up tonight with a hot girl—she's not sure if she agrees with him yet.

His hands are fumbling and adorable and she helps him—placing them on her hips as he kisses from his seat on the stool, she brushes her tong against his and he moans embarrassingly loud—and she feels powerful—feels more of what she was chipping away in favor of whom she wishes she could be—her own personal Tyler Durden is right there beside her, whispering instructions in her ear on how to drive the cute little blonde boy insane, how to make his toes curl, and his eyes flutter, his face flush and his words mush—and she does them, she does them until he's red in the face and sloppily putting money down on the table saying "ready to go?" to her in such a desperate voice, with such eager eyes that when she says—"just a minute, gotta use the bathroom" he asks if he can go—blushes when she laughs—and says mumbly-voiced:  
"I'll be right here when you get back" she grins at him until she can't see him anymore, and when she meets up with Katherine outside—after climbing out the bathroom window—the girls giggle and once again she has to remind herself this isn't a dream—

—Katherine is still a girl—

* * *

They walk some random street, and can see lights flaring from where the city has yet to call it quits, animated douche-bags walk around in low riding swim trunks and thong sandals trying their best to entice a prize to take home for the night, some having more luck then others.

There silent and smiling until Bonnie decides she's tired of fucking around

"What exactly is _this_?"

Katherine raises a brow at her

"A boardwalk?" Bonnie gives her a "bitch don't play" look and Katherine chuckles

"Why does it have to be anything Bonnie? Why can't it be just what it is—a good time, a chance for you to let loose? A chance for Damon to get what he's _always_ desired and a chance for me to fuck shit up—a past-time that I simply adore—Is it so hard to believe I wanted to play Fairy God Mother to your Cinderella?

Bonnie doesn't have a witty response so Kat continues

"I get it" she says uncharacteristically serious and when Bonnie looks at her, her eyes are far away

"your use to it—I get that, it's like second nature to question intentions because now that you've had a taste of the free, you're not going back to being a hand-maiden, nor should you have too—not when your clearly so much better than the job description—I didn't take you turn, you into the Diva of the night, or to make you some corrupt evil Bennet servant, I took you because you _wanted_ to go"

* * *

When they get back to the room Damon is awake with some bimbo laying on her stomach, bare down to her feet the cover only covering her right leg, knocked out-he's sliding into his boxers and gives Bonnie and Kat sleepy smiles because it's like 6am and the sun is starting to rise.

Bonnie looks at Katherine who smirks and shakes her head "I bet you thought I'd be pissed-? But why would I? If anything he was being thoughtful, I haven't had breakfast _yet_" Bonnie rolls her eyes and strolls past both of the leeches into the bathroom to shower.

* * *

The thought occurs to her again in the shower, the water tunneling down her hair

_What exactly is happening to you? Where are your morals you _crazy_ bitch?_

She thinks she's losing it because suddenly she's no longer showering alone—there's another _her_, standing right in front of her, her hair the same length as Bonnie's, but where Bonnie carries a few scars along her arm, one on her thigh and a rather prominent one from her run in with Ben on her shoulder blade, this Bonnie doesn't have any, and her hair is a pleasant auburn color that Bonnie has always wanted to try, she even seems curvier then Bonnie herself. She grins at her and her smile is knee knocking—which is odd enough since its Bonnie's face.

"_What's happening?"_ she says, then chuckles _"what's happening is your waking up kitten—what's happening out there—with that woman? That has nothing to do with us, where 3__rd__ party baby, Switzerland, she made the mistake of falling for the charm of the devil and consequence is consequence in the world of the living that's a truth you know personally ain't it? We're not going to lose any sleep over this—from this point on morality is for pussies—just for a little while, we need a break and I'm sure the world will do just fine without us—let's see just what happens when we let loose?"_

She runs a hand down Bonnie's cheek, and Bonnie herself is afraid to move because she doesn't understand what's happening—her logical mind is fighting in a chicken fight with her artistic one and there is no dominance upstairs

"_Let's let loose Bonnie"_

Bonnie blinks to get soap out of her eyes and the other Bonnie is gone and she's alone. She hears the woman outside the shower moaning, and shuts her eyes. Just for a little while—she'll pocket her morality police badge just for a little while—let Bonnie Bennett be player one in her own video game—see where that takes her. Give it a spin.

She's earned it after all.

The next morning they all slide into Katherine's Porsche and Bonnie decides she wants to drive—while Damon and Katherine are in the back, Damon's bare ass flexing as he drives into Kat—yeah they are having sex in the backseat while she drives—Bonnie grabs a random pair of shades from the ash tray and

…a Fuckless Hero.

…sounds alright~

…the ace of her own existence

**So FIRST OFF for those of you who are a bit lost—the Bonnie/Bonnie shower scene is all mental—there was no one in the shower with her, for those of you who've seen fight club—(YOU SHOULD FUCKING SEE IT RIGHT NOW)—it's a sort of Tyler Durden situation, i.e. this is the Bonnie that she wishes she where, who she **_**wants**_** to be, the one she wishes she was, this Bonnie will appear often as the voice that will ultimately lead her for a while, she's going through some things and her conscious isn't so positive at the moment so she's going to take some dark turns.  
Next chapter we seem some changes implemented AND we get Bamon~**


	4. Track 4 Violent Delights

**WOW okay yes this one is um…a little on the violent side, it's not for the squeamish, I promised Bamon and there is plenty of it—just not for you romantic types just yet, anyway see for yourself kiddies, off you go **

**TRACK #3 – Violent Delights**

He can't pinpoint it—can't put his finger on the change, but it's there, there in the way she struts as oppose to the way she just use to walk,  
_which personally he thinks would be annoying if it weren't so hot_  
the way her smile is more than just sharp things and promises of pain—seduction is there too now, she's voluptuous, from the way she bends to sit to the way that she arches her back when she wakes up—it's getting out of hand—and he wouldn't have it any other way.

He _knows_ she's not a stupid girl—in fact she is quite the opposite, she's got one of the sharpest wits he's ever encountered, one of the quickest minds, and one of the most _violent_ souls—so he knows she's doing it on purpose—a form of her vengeance, the way she brushes against him, gives him heated stars that make him his dick twitch; out of fear of its own safety or excitement he's not yet sure—but he gets tired of it very quickly.

It makes him reconsider his alignment a lot of the time—Bonnie Bennett could be his greatest foe, or his most valued ally and he can't honestly see of the thick film of haze which is more prosperous to him, on most days the idea of fighting with her gets him so hot that it's tangible—his breath colors the air like one of those Japanese gay comics.  
Others…Others the aspect of having her at his side, the idea of them destroying the world hand and hand as the power couple of the century? His princess of darkness who doesn't _need_ to be crowned? On those days he changes his jeans. Often.

Either or, he's tired of her bullshit

"What is this game of yours Witchy?"

She makes a face at him, her legs folded as she pans through a magazine, she doesn't bother to sugar coat it and she doesn't bother to look at him—somehow that pisses him off more

"Remember when I said I'd kill you? I _meant_ it Damon…but before I do, I'm going to make your life a living hell—every moment were alone together you'll know a truth—you won't ever get to touch me, have me like I _know _you won't to—I won't let you drop of the face of the earth the way you down when guilt creeps in to play—you're going to taste reality, and then? Then I'm going to fucking end you" she smiles at him, then returns to her magazine.

He's shaking—and it's not from fear either.

* * *

The next day he wakes up before her, there's a note on in the form of a napkin—he recognizes Kat's handwriting

_Gone Out to Play Darlings, See You Soon_  
_All the Love_

_- Kat_  
_P.S. Bon's If You Kill Him, Don't be Messy~_

He smirks because he knows what this is…he knows Katherine Pierce better then he knows himself—and recognizes her games as his own; this is her invitation—she's handing them the sparing gloves and telling them to duke it out because she's tired of their shit—the idea appeals to Damon more than he thought it would—he wants the little witch get angry, watch her eyes change from fierce to pissed, and feel the hum of her power as she slams him every which way to the highway—and then he wants to fuck her brainless, until she's so lost to him that she forgets her name, until she's begging for him—rather it's to stop or keep going she won't know, he wants to pound into her until it feels like there one—than he'll snap her neck and pretend it was an accident when Kat gets back.

Diabolical? Maybe—but he _is_ Damon Salvatore

* * *

It happens in slow motion—Bonnie walks out of her shower, a towl wrapped around her body, her hair like a trail of deep brown down her back, he watches her—eager, it's only she and him in this room and since she refuses to acknowledge his existence it's almost like he's here alone.

She stops at the counter—notices the letter, she reads it.

Than she's quietly folding it, down on the table, _classy bitch_, she doesn't face him when she says it, or breaths it rather, as if it's a choir

"Ready?" she asks and his face changes of its own accord at the challenge and he answers with a snarl

"born ready lover"

* * *

She's been watching him—he's reckless and she can _handle_ reckless because she's always been calculated—he lunges and she's spinning, palm facing the air as she catches his form in mid-air, she hurls him backward into the wooden wall of the motel, with all the force of her growing telepathy. It cracks a bit as he slams down into a landing on his ass, groaning.

She gives him a sad smile

"Oh honey, you've got to come harder than that if you want to kill _me_" at his, when he snarls she chuckles, she's never been a trash talker but she's trying something new, being someone new, carpe diem and _all that shit_.

"Damon—it's a testament to how little you think about me if you thought I wouldn't figure out your plan, or hers—this is the final test right? Who kills who? Who's going to be useful to me in the long run? Who can I rely on? You _want_ that role, need it right? Need desperately to be at her side for _all _eternity" She gives him a pouty face and for a moment she thinks she'd make a kick-ass villain, "Well I certainly _wouldn't_ die to take it from you—but the fact of the matter is—I have a promise to keep, a little proclamation or sorts to take you down, and I _will_ carry it through"

Damon's face twists into fury and she thinks her villainous monologue served its purpose. Everybody knows that rage blinds the foolish. He gives her the "woo-hoo" eyes and she watches as they blacken _completely_, he doesn't respond just charges her again; she thinks to mention that this fight is so very _premature_ but she won't question the workings of fate.  
Instead she takes off the training wheels and lets it flow, dude. She puts up both her hands and lets the power slam into his form; he soars and hits a picture frame, she suspends him there, than has him riding the wall around the room until she can blast him through the patio window and outside, his body smashes through the wooden banister and he hurtles out and down.

Somewhere in her head it occurs to her that, that was a bit dramatic. She thinks it's safe to mention that along with that feeling is the imaginary "splat" sound she pictures him making on the concrete. Perhaps she should see someone. With a degree.

Both the noise and the feeling die when she shrugs, this _is _war after all. She's triumphant as she walks outside—careful to step over broken glass—to look down at her victim.

When he's nowhere to be found she curses and shuts her eyes—preparation is key and she's got a whole hell of a lot of pain coming her way. A moment later her body is hurtling backwards at an odd angle and slamming head first into the hotel room's metal door.

"So much for chivalry" she groans rubbing her head, not at all surprised to find blood. Whew _there goes my 4__th__ grade memories_  
Damon smirks at her as he picks glass out of his flesh doing arm swings as if he's warming up—she can tell he's hurting. He makes a face at her.

"Spare me" he spits out a mouthful of blood "you're _no_ lady, bitch"

She shrugs unfazed

"No arguments _there_"

She lets her eyes whiten, the pupils disappearing as she digs around in her brain for the words

Whispers _Ignis _

And_…_Damon's screams fill the hotel room as his body ignites in mind-fire—she can already feel the pressure on her mind—it's too much and she's doing _too_ much, but she's going to end him—she's got to end him, she can feel the blackness crowding her vision, the hit was too hard—she's hearing damage, sounds of her own mind fracturing—something's broken—it hurts to remind herself that she's only human.  
Witch or Not.  
So she turns it up—gives it her best, whispers spells to turn the fire angry, to turn it fierce as it chars his flesh

"_Excoquat, Ferverfacio, Videns, Adolebit" _any pyro would be proud of her effort as Damon's form stands there dead still like a fourth of July love child, his body—he's charcoal now, some kind of sick stunt dummy in a Jason film as he falls forward, now charred carpet bits.

She takes a breath. Blood is pouring from her nose with ease and she can taste it on her tong—there's no surprise when she coughs it up, she tries to stand but her entire equilibrium is off, names flash before her eyes, faces and she recognizes them but at the cost of a splintering head ache unlike anything she's ever know.

As she starts to fade she thinks that she's bleeding internally—Gray's Anatomy tells her that's not such a good thing—she's not upset about dying—in fact as always her motto is still the same—she was born for it, and she's done what she feels she was brought to this earth to do—and that's end Damon Salvatore—he's a nuisance. A Cancer. A godforsaken crater on "Helen's" pretty little face, she's done them all a favor—and when they mourn her, question her motives—they won't understand it but it'll still be true

_One less_

* * *

She doesn't scream when he's there, his hand around her throat so tight that blood bubbles up over her lips—he respects her more then she'll ever know.

She just stares at him with a limp smile "not bad Salvatore—I stand corrected" he doesn't say anything, looks at her with sad, analytical eyes as she dies in his hands, he feels broken—unfortunately there's no directions for the feeling.

"Why?" he asks her, and he hopes she's in it enough to get that he's asking her a question—he gets his answer when he hears her voice in his head, on a side note, she's totally more bad-ass the any of the witches he's killed before.

"_If you had asked me that a second ago, I'd have said that it was because you killed her—you killed everything I loved, took away the very last thing that mattered, the one person who cared—but now? With you cobra clutching my wind pipe? I don't know—I guess I was holding onto that hatred so that I had a reason not to cry, not to mourn—it hurts a lot less when you have a reason to be angry—a reason not to blame yourself the way I _should_ be doing"_

He shakes his head

"this wasn't your fault Bonnie—not mine, and not yours—this was Shelia's fault; she knew what she was doing that night and I know your smart enough to know that too, she was competent enough to know that at her age she had no chance of surviving a spell that powerful and that you certainly weren't ready to help her—let this go—you've more than proven your point" he doesn't know why, but the word comes forth;

"_Please" _he says it telepathically to lessen the blow on his psyche—his not hers

Bonnie eyes flutter closed in response

"_You say that like it matters—don't be any idiot, don't mourn the loss of someone who wanted you dead"_

Then he feels her life slip through his fingers—

* * *

When she comes to terror immediately grips her—how is she alive, this is unnatural, she shouldn't be alive—she felt it, felt it as bits of her mind snapped irreplaceably—this shouldn't be, and it's unlike any type of terror she's ever experienced—_the fucking monster _she breaths _he turned me—_his last hoorah and what a fucking hoorah it is.

She opens her eyes and he's sitting there, staring at her from a chair across the wrecked and ruined bedroom, he looks tense but casual, his dark black shirt clinging to his form, the first three buttons unbuttoned, his jeans tight and fitted against his legs, his skin as clear and clean as marble—you'd never know he was gripping deaths collar only moments before.

"Morning there beauty" he says tightly. She blinks, then narrows her eyes "this the part where you convince me to drink the cool-aid?" he laughs, shakes his head so that his hair falls across from his forehead—he looks better with it long and wild. A truth she'll keep to herself "hardly, I tried believe me, but your stronger then I think even you give yourself credit for—even with a fractured spine, internal bleeding and a busted pancreas you healed yourself right up with the help of some Vamp-Mojo"

She breathes a sigh of relief without actually breathing, looks at him as he looks at her and it's a moment that's intimate even if neither of them will acknowledge it.

Mentally she'll admit to it—admit to what they are; how they're much more than the destructive cock fight they appear to be—how they get each other better than the other can possibly fathom, read each other like old issues of _People _, and she doesn't hate Damon…she's never hated him—she's just convinced herself that she did, that she had too—it was the only way to chase her sanity, after grams death life went on around her—it continued, and school went on, Elena went back to being star 1, Caroline star 2—Stefan and Damon went back to wrecking the lives of the innocent and the unfortunate, Damon by design, Stefan by misfortune but her life seemed to stay the same, the pain seemed to sit still and solid in her chest and hating him became her mission—to kill him—though she never truly planned to become the thing that made her roll out of bed every day, pretend to be the girl she concocted when high school began—pretend to care about Elena's problems when hers had yet to be solved, love Caroline even through her carelessness about Bonnie's own misfortune—and deal with the painful loneness that haunted Bonnie every time the sun set and her father came home with eyes as dead as how she was on the inside

In some twisted truth—Damon was her salvation.

"Okay…then is the part where you tell me how much I have to live for?" he shakes his head again

"this is the part where we stop ignoring the elephant in the room that is the fact that you don't hate me anymore then I hate you—that we acknowledge the mutual respect" Bonnie is shocked into silence—a personal truth coming from Damon Salvatore?

She tells him so and he rolls his eyes mumbling "more begrudgingly by the second"

* * *

"It's a little pretentious, don't you think?"

"Oh come off it, its daytime television"

"They've got by on that excuse for much too _long_, trust me"

It's odd really and it occurs to her—honest it does. The way there sitting in a totally desecrated hotel room, after the gauntlet of the century, feet kicked up on the broken bed with room service and bad daytime television—it's totally odd, but that adjective is her life ever since she turned 16, _odd_.

Besides they only do that until it gets dark—then they go out, Damon helps her get dressed and honestly it should be odd, should be odd because only moments before she'd made it her lifes mission to hate him, but now that she's made the mistake of letting him in, something's changed between them—it's not friendship, not by any means not when she says things to him like

"You're fashion sense is second only to your inability to form a coherent and useful thought"

And _means it, _and not when he says things like

"This is only paralleled by your total lack of a sex life divided by your percentage of inhibition"

Only difference is now they both laugh.

They go out clubbing and it's different from when she went out with Kat—Damon is childish, so childish in fact that it's no mystery that he tells her—after he's had a few drinks—why it annoys him so much when she calls him old

"I don't feel old" he says and she believes him, he acts just like he would if he were really in his 20's.

He grabs ass on the dance floor, flirts aimlessly at the bar, and starts brawls because he _knows_ he can win them, and he can fight—Damon Salvatore can _really _fight.

She watches him take down a red neck that felt her up—she opts to tell him she had it under control, but Damon just grabs the guys collar and tosses him from Bonnie's left into some unsuspecting women's bar stool which sends them both towering to the ground—it's fucking _hilarious._

Eventually they get kicked out of the bar, laughing and swerving—cept she thinks's Damon's only acting drunk.

"can you guys—you know get tipsy?" he makes a face

"dunno—it's always been my personal mission to try" Bonnie nods, in a pleasant state, her body still pleasantly spent from her all out with Damon in the hotel room, she laughs when she remembers the state they left it in

"I can just see the terror on her face, that poor maid" Damon laughs, and it's odd because she's never heard him laugh—chuckle yes, that maniacal thing he did when he was going at it with Mason—perhaps, but never really laugh, it reminds him of how young he was when he died—but it's too soon in there iffy treaty to try for emotional shit so she keeps the thoughts to herself.

* * *

The night ends with them zonked out on the ruined bed, his head in her lap and her head against the splintered headboard.

**Alrighty? So what'd you think? I tried to make the fight as fair as I could—well that's bullshit because Bonnie totally kicked his ass, but honestly that's how I always pictured that's how a final bout between them might go, Bonnie on the offense and Damon waiting her out, and then finishing her, lets face it—he's got her in the stamina category (wink wink nudge nudge). ANYWAY! Epic chapter coming up, stories gonna take another left, so be prepared my darlings, not for the calling card;**

**Read & REVIEW if you've got the time, if not? As always JUST ENJOY!**


	5. Interlude Nice Guys Finish Last

**Time to learn what Kat's up to while she's away—as well as the introduction of a new POV—Matt Donovan ladies and gents~**

**INTERLUDE – Nice Guys Finish Last **

He's half asleep when his phone rings—he's worked a double shift at the grill and his body aches like nothing ever has before—an exhausted ache that starts in his calf's and works its way up to his spine, threading along his shoulders—another cruel joke from god's "100 pranks to play handbook" and as always he's the target.  
He doesn't bother moving, just reaches out his arm knocking shit to the floor in an effort to find his cellphone, when his hand finally clamps over it, after thanking the heavens for the small mercy he puts it to his ear

"Ugh?" _Graceful—he knows_

The voice is one he'd recognize anywhere—he's immediately sitting up, the sheets falling away from his waist "huh? Wait Elena—, okay, oh—, Bonnie? , how lo—, yeah, no I—I wasn't asleep, got it" he puts the phone down next to him and palms his face—goddamn it. There's always something wrong—he's always the one she calls, and he isn't angry at her—been there, done that, he's angry at himself—it's been over 2 years since she dumped him like a sack of potato's but he still loves her, he loves her to no end and so he's jackhammering up, tossing shit around to find a pair of boxers and having no luck, because it's summer and he seriously cannot afford to sleep with the air conditioner on—making commando the way to go—and because his room is a hell hole.  
Eventually he makes the adult decision to do laundry ASAP and grabs a pair strung across his computer chair, he pulls them up around his hips and gets dressed like a big boy as fast as possible.

* * *

Elena's hysterical—something about how Bonnie's missing and she won't pick up the phone—and to some, some who aren't Elena Gilbert it means Bonnie is either

a.) ASLEEP

b.) Ignoring Her

c.) All of the above

But he doesn't blame Elena for that—they live in Mystic Falls, Bonnie could be strung up somewhere by her insides.

He shuts her eyes as a body shiver hits…it's not something he'd like to envision. He tells his sleepy eyed reflection that this is totally necessary—Bonnie Bennett is his one of his closest friends, she's seen him at his lowest because he's trusted no one else enough to let _them—_except maybe Tyler.

He knows Bonnie is a smart girl—independent, he knows if she's in some kind of trouble she can handle herself, but that thought doesn't fight the cold sweat making a column on his neck, he knows _something _has happened to her—rather it's terrible or not he's not entirely sure—but he loves her like a sister and if he didn't do everything he could to find her, he'd never forgive himself if something happened to her.

He's got enough things to never forgive himself about.

But all he needs is to go there—into that abyss populated by the spirit of his baby sister; he knows she wasn't his fault—but he can feel it, sitting at the base of everything that makes him up, her death, her blood on his hands—he had never cried in front of Vicki because it became his responsibility to protect her once there mom decided she quit as a mother—a decision he is thankful for if he's being honest.  
It made tears something he couldn't afford—but that night when he found her bloodied, he had cried, he had cried _hard _and he thinks sometimes he should cry more often, there wasn't a pleasant numbness to his limbs when he got home that night, an airiness in his chest that hasn't been there sense and his life could use a little emptiness—because right now it's so full that he's drowning.

* * *

He puts on music because his thoughts are about as helpful as…oh, well _not_ at all.

He stops off at a diner after he's been driving for about 2 hours, checks in with Elena who's still hysterical so he ends up on the phone with Stefan—it's awkward in Matt's opinion.  
He likes Stefan—really he does, Stefan's good for Elena—it hurts him to say, but he is—and Matt thinks he's a more than an ok looking guy; the part of him that use to have sleepovers with Tyler and do more than _sleep _is inclined to mention just how green his eyes are, how broad his shoulders, how strong his jaw—but those thoughts fade quickly when Stefan speaks

"Any luck?" _really? How would I have had luck?_

"Not really—I'm stopping off to eat, I'm positive being comatose on the road is grounds for getting pulled over"

Stefan chuckles dryly—he'd better enjoy that, I don't think he'll be laughing often tonight

"Be careful okay? I know you're doing this for her but don't kill yourself—we can't afford to lose another, and hey Matt?"

Matt grunts in response—he's very fucking eloquent in the AM

"Watch out for my brother—he's out there, and I—I think he's with Bonnie, but this is between me & you, she can't know about it"

Matt scrubs a hand down his face and conjures the image of Stefan's psychotic older brother—he's once again inclined to mention just how attractive a Salvatore is—were Stefan is a bit more rugged, Damon is just damn pretty, those blue eyes, that dark hair and that sinful pout—Matt scrubs his face, that's another thing to add to his AM checklist—he's incredibly horny

"Gotcha" he says a little choked, "over and out" he says with as little sarcasm as he can possibly allow

* * *

It's a quaint diner, and Matt behaves himself as best he can when "Mari" his waitress bends over his table to take his order and displays 21 years' worth of cleavage—all he can afford to do is get hard, he's awarded with the memory of just how nice a guy he is when she writes her number down and he doesn't decide to cash it in with her in the back bathroom—especially when she whispers

"…I'm off in an hour" in his ear. She was successful at getting him excited but he can't do that to her—she might look like one, but she doesn't deserve to be a cheap bathroom fuck, he'd have to be a lot drunker to toss his morals aside like that

* * *

He's only been sitting for a few minutes after Mari's departure before someone slides in the booth across from him—her presence yellows his skin and turns his eyes white—oh **_shit_**.

"Oh well _hell-o_ there" Katherine coos, he shivers again at just how much she looks like Elena—if he weren't a lovesick puppy he'd never notice the subtle differences; the fact that Katherine is just a bit curvier, her hair a bit longer, eyes a bit darker—black almost, her skin paler

"What are you doing here?" he asks as quietly as he can—he's sure he should be afraid, and he kind of is but it's dulled by a multitude of things—exhaustion, his worry for Bonnie, and the pesky attraction he's always had to the psychotic trick

"Looking for you—you drive awful fast for someone so tired sweetness—I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself" she gives him a pout and reaches across the table, sips at his water before playing with the straw between her nails

"I came for you Matt—so we can beat around the bush or you can come along quietly, it's really up to you" she licks her lips at him "god have you gotten hotter?"

He flushes beside himself "what would you want with me? I'm useless to you; trust me when I say it"  
_Survival instinct #1—hopefully: Downplay Yourself_

She rolls her eyes, "you mortals—no sense of potential—_useless_ is the last thing you are cutie—" she leans across the table and runs her nail down his cheek "let mommy bring it out of you—it'd be _so_ easy you know" she drapes herself across the table and she's so hot—he hates to admit it but she is, the supple curves of her waist, her petit shape jammed in leather, pressing her breast up—but then again he's sure this is the point, to entice idiots like him—idiots who've had the dry spell from hell—idiots who are still in love with girls who are head over heels—idiots who are out of there league

She snaps at him and he blinks, "stay with me lover boy—don't think about her, think about me—I know you want too—"her eyes downcast to his crotch, "is that for me? Or Mari because either way _I approve" _he flushes again and his ears on fire, Katherine giggles in delight

"Oh Matt—your _too_ much fun", but then she's serious—"but seriously Matt, we've got places to be, lives to take—you know the saying" Matt shivers he sucks at this poker-face stuff, but he can be angry—anger works—so he draws on all the things that are Katherine's fault—indirectly Vicki's death, Vampires came to this town for the sake of her, Caroline getting turned—and ruining his last chance to get over the girl of his dreams—the terror that the town is oblivious to, she's responsible for it all, so when she runs a hand down his cheek he grabs it and frowns at her

"Wow lady you've got some nerve don't you? What is this the draft? I'm not going anywhere with you, you're fucking psychotic"

Katherine looks at him for a moment before tilting her head back and laughing, "too _fun!_, Oh Matt—I might have left you alone before, but now that you've shown me you _do _have balls to go along with that disco stick of yours, you're coming with mommy—or"  
she grins at him as her face changes—veins extending from her eyes and altering her pale beauty into a horror show, her fangs emerge slowly and he thinks that she does it to scare him—it works, even her eyes change, the color of blood creeps past the whites and turns her brown a flakey gold

"…or… I can rip out Mari's intestines and strangle the pretty little folk inside this diner with them?" if he had it like that, Matt's sure he would have shit himself in that moment—,wha—she's a fucking monster, his conscious is screaming for him to bolt, to run back to his shitty car, and drive as fast as possibly back to his empty house, with his suffocating life, and to lie there in terror, to lie there where at any moment he can die—and to be okay with it, because that's his life—he's no hero, he's the fucking civilian for god's sake!

But he's Matt Donovan—and these people never did anything to him

So when Katherine stands, he stands with her—and follows behind her swaying hips as she struts triumphantly out of the diner

* * *

It _hits_ him when he gets outside, has him hurling water and last night's Chinese

Katherine tsk's at him

* * *

He's riding beside her in her little Porsche ready to cry—his skin shakes around his bones, which shiver, and he's a mess—a terrified mess of flesh and blood.

He can handle this—handle her, he's not an idiot—in fact he's way smarter than anyone gives him credit for, and it's not like he's weak—he's been in football since he was 9 years old, and he's got the biceps to prove it—he can play this game, play _her_ game, he can outsmart her—or he can die trying

"What's this about Kat?" he turns to face her, "you could have called first"  
_he can do this—it's an act—he can act, he does everyday_

She grins without facing him "you're just like _Bonnie_ you know that? Both so suspicious"

Matt freezes at the mention of her name—he's sure Kat knows _exactly _what she's doing

He starts to panic—_where the fuck is she! What'd you do to her! _But takes in a silent breath anyway, try's a smirk

"Well you did just threaten to rip out chick's intestines—sorry if I don't want to be besties"

She makes a face at him—it reads "touché"

"you _will_ Matt—for now, we can't have you smartening up—" she reaches out lightning fast and slams the side of his head against the window with her palm, so quick that blackness is only a second away

"—_ugh, I hate to do that to you _sorry hon, it's just that you're much more talkative than I intended you'd be, that's a problem seeing as how mama isn't in a talky mood"

* * *

He wakes up and he's so terrified that he doesn't want to open his eyes. There's no grace period where he wonders where he is, how he got here, and has no recollection of the moments before—he remembers everything with a clarity that makes him arch, ready to toss his cookies for the 2nd time of the night.

He does open his eyes though—it's harder than it should be

He sees Katherine through hazy eyes; her lips are red and—bloody. He reaches a shaky hand up to his throat and sure nough—no surprises as he brings his hand back into his sight disguised as a paintbrush and coated in red

Katherine's no longer playing games with him; he meets her eyes with questioning ones

"Now's the time we sink or swim Matty—now's the time that you get to choose. Do you want to die? Is it so important to you to come back to this shit-storm of a life? Wouldn't you be happier in the ground? Maybe you'd see Vicki again, maybe fall out of love with my little mini-me? Or maybe you choose to live; maybe you choose to be a _god_. Young and beautiful forever, uncaring of the things that make you hurt in your day to day, a singular focus and that's only in pleasing yourself—maybe you'll surprise me Matt—or maybe you won't be either way?"

She speeds over to him, in an instant she mounts him and it'd be heavenly if he weren't fucking petrified

"Time to toss you in the deep end" then things go snap, crackle, black as she snaps his neck between her palms.

**Well alrighty dighty—I'm sure some of you guys are thrown—at least I hope you are because that was certainly the point. Matt is going to have a pretty prominent role in this fic from this point on, he and Bonnie are going to be the stars as of now—Kat has a plan, and it involves the two of them, she's got an agenda and all of the people she has with her are a part of it—it's coming together upstairs and in the next few chapters expect a little reveal into what's happening with her mind's eye.**

**ANYWAY read and REVIEW if you have the time, if not—as always just ENJOY.  
(seriously, you know I love you guys, but a few review's would be nice)**


	6. Track 6 The Draft

**Welcome back to the Vegas show that _is_ this fic—some surprises coming up, in this one so _enjoy!_**

**TRACK 6: THE DRAFT**

To her credit—she doesn't drool. Just stares. Stares at all that pale and flawless skin, wrapped around sinew and lean muscle—he strolls across the strewed room naked, and he does it on purpose because he's an ass.  
She does however think his ass is _great_—and it's no wonder because everything on him is perfect, just the right amount of plump and sculpted.  
_One of these days she'll give him the spanking he deserves  
_the thought doesn't surprise her, it's a part of the new Bonnie Bennett curriculum. It's only been about a week since she adopted her new philosophy but she's learned some of the key tips from the master, and that's one of them—

_"You don't have to censor your mind, it's the first step to no longer having to censor your mouth" – Damon Salvatore_

—he pulls up a pair of Calvin Klein's around his waist—of course Calvin Klein's, of course—and turns to face her with a smirk "so I hope you enjoyed that, it was _just _for you my little bonsai-tree" she rolls her eyes "you've _got _to get that under control Damon, it's getting scary"

He swaggers over to her smelling like after shave and citrus, "what's that B?"

She puts a nail under his chin and brings his lips within kissing distance, "your—" they stop when the door opens and footsteps sound, they both turn at the same time to see Katherine stroll in wearing a smile and—

-with Matt Donovan in toe.

Her first thought is _Shit _followed significantly by _shit shit shittttt_ because what's she supposed to think? What's she supposed to _do? _She reverts to Mystic Falls Bonnie—pulls her from the ashes of her new living arrangement and tries for some of that survival instinct—she's sure she can't take Katherine and Damon while protecting Matt_—_someone's got to die and since it can't be Matty it has to be her, and once again she's okay with that. She decides the element of surprise should be hers and is about to make her move when Katherine chuckles

"Down cow girl—this isn't a life or death, let's be cordial to our new travel companion" beside her Damon's jaw is so clenched that she's sure his dentist is cringing. Matt looks up with sad eyes and when they see her, they brighten. She gets up and opens her arms, and he all but runs into them bending a bit to bury his face in her neck.

"Where have you been Bon?" he whispers, and she can't ignore the tears that blur her vision

His skin is as cold as death itself and a _colder still_ terror unlike anything since Caroline wraps around her heart.  
_  
Aw **F-U-C-K**_

* * *

There's no pamphlet for instances like this—she thinks she should start a series; how to help a friend of the undead. Come up with a name; Danny the dead dude. Alliteration for the kids. She failed Caroline totally as a friend when she was turned and though she doesn't regret it, she feels awful about it, especially when Caroline's always been there for her—Matt's her second chance, and it's easy—that soft spot she's always had for him has—and probably will always be there _just_ for him, so when he tucks his face in her neck and bunches his muscles against her she lets him, and runs her fingers through his hair as she moves them back to the fractured bed—she mumbles little words into his jaw

_"It's okay" _and_ "we'll fix this—I've got you now"_ she's never considered herself soothing but it works enough for him to stop shaking. Which works enough for her to listen to a raging Damon argues with Katherine.

"What the fuck this?" he's posturing with his hands—that's a true sign of his level of anger, Katherine smirks at him, runs her hand along the shattered bookshelf

"so who won?" she looks at Bonnie and well—she doesn't know how she feels about Katherine right now, so she goes for anger "what the _hell_ where you thinking? This is _not _okay—I should fucking end you" Katherine frowns

"That'd be awful ungrateful of you Bonnie" Bonnie rolls her eyes "don't start that Christ and savior shit with me Kat, what's Matt's excuse?"

Katherine laughs, a playful sound—she hasn't gotten angry yet but Bonnie's waiting for it, and when it comes she knows she'll have to fight "are you all really so close-minded and so _oblivious?"_

"Oblivious?" Damon does the wild-eyes routine and laughs cruelly "I guess where _all_ oblivious then because—it's over my fucking head—you know what I think? I think your _reverting. _Not enough whores in the brothel ay Kat? How ab-"

It happens quickly and Bonnie's use to quick—almost to the point where her eyes follow Katherine's unparalleled speed, snapping a bit of the broken dresser off and flipping it between her fingers throws it like a bullet from a gun into Damon's stomach

"—ack" he snarls and his eyes go black and, she's frankly annoyed, tired and after a goddamn explanation, so when Damon moves to strike Bonnie steps in

"For god's sake—"

She puts up her hand, sending Katherine slamming into the vanity and onto her ass, then propels Damon into the bed and wraps the sheets around his upper body constricting him, Hannibal style.

"—now you" she looks at Katherine, "I want a fucking explanation, because otherwise I'm going to kill you—"she looks at Damon, "_and_ you, while me and _my_ friend get the fuck out of your twisted little game of candy land"

Katherine stands, wearing a grin unlike any other

"_That's_ why Bonnie that right there is the reason behind all of this— I didn't take any of you from a life you _wanted _to be living did i? Damon you spent an eternity looking for me, so it's clear there was never really another option for you" Damon has stopped struggling and looks away from her with raw eyes, she can tell Kat's hit the nail on the head

"and Bonnie—you were miserable, your life was consumed by things you wanted no hand in, you were a slave to the people you called friends—" Katherine has gotten closer, she's doing that walk-and-talk think like a Sunday sermon speaker, her heels clicking on the wood as she struts "—I gave you something to live for—_yourself _you've never been happier, never freer, you don't have to hide who you are with me, with _us_ and it's the same story with Matt—he's suffocating in that town, full of old things he can't let go of and the ghost of his sister, he needed away—away from them and away from himself, I might have forced him into it but he'll thank me—some people are born for this and Matt is one of those people"

Matt's out of Bonnie's arms so fast that she falls off the bed, smacking into the wood with an "ugh", Matt's fisting Katherine's neck slamming her body into a nearby wall, his eyes are bloody and purple like Stefan's use to be when she first learned about his vampirism, veins extended down his cheeks and touch the beginning of his jaw

"_No!_" he snarls "I'm _not _a monster" she pets his face and coos at him

"No your not—" then in another instant her own face vamps out and she hurls Matt across the room, bursting through the last put together thing in the room, and shattering the lamp it resided on

"—but you _are_ going to let me go" she brushes herself off, "look—something is coming; that something wants _me_ dead, and now that it's seen you with me it's going to want _you_ dead, it's stronger then everyone in this room, and it will kill the people you love if it can't kill you, as of now shit gets real, and quite frankly I'm tired of being a good girl" she snarls and her face changes "welcome to the draft kids"

Before anyone can react Matt's up and zooming out of the door and down the hall, Bonnie palms her face "shit!" she looks at Katherine, "nice going, doggy dominatrix—" she glances at Damon whose chuckling and lets him free from his restraints "—take off your Capitan hat for a moment and help me find him! You let loose a fucking newborn vampire in a town full of _people_" Katherine snarls at her, and Damon smirks "yeah because this is helping us find him—split up, there's a little too much estrogen in here for me" he makes a face then zooms off

Bonnie rolls her eyes, "great, now we've let loose two idiots on an unsuspecting town" Katherine zooms out after him

"Three~"

* * *

He's not insane—not insane to think that this is insane—in the span of moments that he can count on his figures he's died and been reborn—not like god, but less sacrilegious more _rawr _freak of nature.  
He can feel it—feel the urge to rip into the flesh of people—people that are—_were_ just like he is—_was _he's a predator and it's flowing through his bloodstream thick and repetitive singing the same tune _feed feed, feed _and god does he want too—he wants to so bad, he's never been so terrified as he right now of himself

* * *

Damon strolls because at this point—what does he care? His perfect little world is falling apart around him and the few fucks he did give are dying out quicker than the creatures of the B.C. Katherine showed her ass—like she's prone too—and when the world didn't kiss it, she took a few lives as retribution, he feels for Bonnie—really he does, the jock means something to her, but to him personally? Another new born whose neck he'll have to snap, and whose flesh he'll have to burn—Matt Donovan isn't a man-made vampire—Matt Donovan is a Stefan Salvatore waiting to happen—and that's the absolute thing Damon needs another of.

It occurs to him briefly that Stefan is probably ticked at him. It's a beautiful little afterthought in a storm of shit—but where was he? Ah yeah, the Donovan kid.

He's holy-er-than-thou—a conscious that weighs his shoulders and tightens his spine, he's the type to think before he acts, he's so weighed down by inhibition that he'd spend an eternity denying the basics of his now _very_ primal nature, which would in turn result in an insanity the likes that even Stefan's "ripper" side has yet to have seen, Donovan has the potential to be the most violent and sadistic monster to strut along the concrete and sand—and where still at the if's. That's _if _he can survive the urges—if he doesn't get himself killed in the next 24hrs—he feels a bit of remorse for the kid, there's nothing like vampirism to force you to grow up—which is ironic, yes, noted. However it's his understanding that Matt doesn't have much growing up left to do—so what happens when you turn an adult into a vampire? You get a monster—a true monster.

* * *

Not too much no—just, just enough, enough to stop the burn. Matt's never been greedy—he's not being greedy, she offered and she smiled at him, asked him if he was okay, and Matt's always liked brunettes—its Elena's fault, of this he's sure. This girl—Alice—she's a sweetheart, she's—she's fucking _delicious._

He pulls his face away to swallow and looks down at her limp in his arms, she looks up at him with rabbit eyes—terror stricken and god help him, he smiles at her before snaking down to finish the job—jus-just a little more yes, just until I'm full—little-

-little more.

* * *

By now the kid's began to leave a trail—the scent of blood is so thick in the air that Damon has to stop as a flinch seizes him and forces his basic nature out to play. He snarls at the air and curses Katherine Pierce—she's created a "Ripper" starter kit.

* * *

Katherine can smell the blood. She smiles because success is a failures best friend—the formula will always be the same, tortured good boy, soul of gold, and eternal damnation—what do you get? A soul striving to make up for years of denial;

Now _this _is how her fucking Tuesday was _supposed_ to go.

* * *

They're fighting as soon as Damon charges down the aisle that Matt went down—he springs on him, catching the dark haired vampire by surprise and rushing him, smashing him into the bricks, Damon snarls, eyes bright and hungry "little bitch" he hisses and shoves Matt so hard that the boy jolts and bounces against the brick, sliding down with a hiss—instantly Damon is in his face "have you no _idea _what you've fucking done? _Look_ at the terror? You can taste it can't you?" Damon wonders briefly when he became the morality police but it dies on his tong when Matt speaks for him, "why do you care? This is your playground right? You love this _shit" _Matt tries to budge, but Damon grabs his collar and forces him back down.  
He can't lie—this is his maiden name. Destruction is his business and he'll always have Katherine to thank for that, and as he looks down at the newbie, he thinks it looks nice on Matt—he's a messy eater—like Stefan—his eyes are wild, red mixing with purple, unrepentant hunger and _fight_, Damon's eyes wonder and suddenly it's 1980 all over again because he's never been given the opportunity in Mystic Falls—there prudish kids with Jocks so concerned with what's under a skirt that they totally miss what's in the jockstrap—but he digresses, this isn't the 80's and people don't fuck whatever's on legs. That's just him now.  
Matt's attractive in that naughty good boy way, Damon can feel it in the pits of his gut, he has to work to keep from grinning—he wants to corrupt this one, ruin that pretty gold hair, and those bright blue eyes, and those cherub lips, make him clench that stubborn fucking jaw until it cracks, work that body until he's limp, but that's for a later date—after all they've got _eternity_ now.

Instead Damon takes Matt's head—snarling—tucks it under his arm and heaves until he hears the tell, tale _snap. _

Time to get this piggy back to the market

* * *

She thinks this is shit—complete shit. This is her utopia, a place _removed _now effectively trounced by the realism of Matt Donovan's undead presence—Matt Donovan; undead, those words don't work and they force her to taste ash as she falls back onto the broken hotel bad—exhausted. She should have known to do a spell, she should _know _that, but she's so crossed—the inhibition-less-mind is slowly eroding away at her proficiency as _Bonnie._

She doesn't blink when "other" Bonnie is sitting next to her.

She's taken a liking to calling her OB. With her strawberry red hair, and curvy shape; Bonnie hates her as much as she envies her.

"you're being silly Bon Bon, this is _fantastic_ news, you can lie to everyone and their mom but you can't lie to me hon, and I know how much we still _love_ us some Matt Donovan—"  
she shrugs "so we got him a little battered—fact O the matter? We got him, you didn't like the method of his arrival—I'll give it to you, maybe it's time we start watching the kat and her little bat a bit closer yeah? But were still totally kopasetic baby, free and clear, live your life Bon because in case you've already forgotten, it's unpleasant when you _don't"_

Bonnie shuts her eyes hard, and when she opens them her bigger and brighter self is gone and she's alone with her own slowly decaying mind—

-it doesn't last.

* * *

The door nearly soars off its hinges when Damon kicks it in, Matt slung over his shoulder, she rises to meet him and helps as he dumps Matt's unconscious and—bloody…form onto the bed.

It's everywhere, from his lips to his hair, and blackening in his nails, it makes Bonnie gag—not because It's blood, ha as if, but this is Matt, her own personal _innocent_ and she's wrecked it—she's _wrecked_ his life.

Damon sighs "we'll if your interested I think I know I've figured out what my little kitty kat has walked us into" Bonnie turns to face him as he runs a hand through his hair, she sits next to Matt, and brings his head into her lap, she lets her eyes flutter and thinks _wet towl_ the words float aimlessly into her head until a washcloth—dampened—wraps around her fingers effortlessly—she's gotten good at conjuring, it's a selfish art and she's been awfully selfish lately.

"Say hello to our new resident ripper—your new teammate on Kat's world wind adventure"

Bonnie raises a brow, "Ripp—"a shiver flows down her spine, as she says the word "Ripper…" she remembers a time or two ago when Stefan lost his shit, he'd nearly ripped into some bimbo outside of the Miss Mystic Falls soiree, it's the word Damon had whispered when she put him down like a pound puppy with an aneurism, she looks up at him, "what exactly does that entail?" Damon gives her a serious expression, it makes his eyes shimmer and she hates his eyes—all blue and pretty, inviting, like he's stolen them off a hooker on 99th street with a particularly positive tract record "a "Ripper" is just as the name entails; a vampire who rips—one with an insatiable appetite, a virtual black hole for blood and emotion, they're remorseless and have no control over there switch because it ceases to exist, permanently in the "off" position—prominent in those whose obligation is in being a _white knight" _aw fucking _hell. _

When it rains it **_fucking_** poor's

* * *

It's like…really poetic when it starts raining a moment later.

* * *

Katherine comes home and Bonnie wants to kill her—she wants to, but she knows that's a fight she might not survive and she can't leave Matt—not the way he is now.

It can't be like it was—she sees that now and it's sad, because she was beginning to like her—it changes many things between them but Bonnie still _respects_ her. She respects that the girl knows what she's doing, respects her eye for survival—but that ends when she endangers Bonnie's own fucking life and the life of the people she cares about, so for now? She's going to play a role.

She's going to play it brilliantly, she's the treacherous queen form this point on; and when the clock strikes 12, she's going to take Katherine Peirce out back and put her down like old yeller. Then she'll grab her Ripper and _Damon if he acts right _and off into the sunset they go because —now it's war, and there's no better solider then one whose already prepared to die for her cause.

* * *

**Wow this one came out longer than I expected whatever—had to get it all out—so yeah, what do you think of the new twist? Gasp? _Matt_ a Ripper! No but seriously, I've always thought the whole "Ripper" of aspect is pretty intriguing and I had no intention of making Matt into one until I began to examine it in Stefan—noticing that both boys share the exact same qualities, I thought that it'd be the little twist I was looking for, and it works brilliantly for what I've got planned; _Lots of Bamon, Lots of Matt/Damon, Losts of Matt/Bonnie, and lots of Kat as she prepares her little soldiers for her own personal war.  
All on the rise for the next few._**

**_STAY TUNED!_**


	7. Track 7 Parttime Monsters

**Got another one for ya~**

TRACK 7: Part-time Monsters

Method Acting—tremendously _over_-rated, or disgustingly _under_-rated? Either way it's times like this, where she's lost to touches and kisses, mouths, and whispers, dirty promises and promiscuous hands, that she forgets the defining difference.

That's the idea—that much registers through the fog, but even as simple as it might same, as simple as she made it, it's not nearly that easy—she's taken up the cowl in an effort to free herself from the chains she ultimately tied to her wrist, Katherine has damned them all—

* * *

—It was all a game, a sick one she was determined to win, until the night of the vision—the vision that was so shockingly stark and clear, that she'd been pushed into a seizure, it shook her to her bones, and stole her mind, forced her under for over 3 minutes; she saw faces, etched in blood and veins, dark eyes, and heard screams as clear as if she were there—and one name persisted, written in blood, flashing in the sky outlined in lightning, on someone's blood red lips: Klaus.

Bonnie thought it was a bit dramatic upon coming too

* * *

"Proofs in the pudding bitch" that's what Katherine said when Bonnie woke up—she couldn't really even be mad at her

* * *

—and so here she is, pretending to be alright—she's every dudes dark fantasy with her hair down, and her eyes done, her lips red and wearing a taunting smile, and she's every girls envy jammed between two bodies, both hungry for her throat, but only what lies beneath her skin—

Blood lust is a bitch—

And she can _feel_ Katherine watching, feel her eyes, Bonnie _gets_ this—and like always she finds herself respecting who Katherine Pierce is—welcome to bonding exercise _numero uno_ kids, maybe you were expecting an ice breaker, but then again we are in the company of the Kat herself, she does things with style and this is just that, decorated in lights, sounds and leather somewhere in New York, this is meant to create a bond, and Bonnie supposes it does—sometimes she has to remind herself that this is a game—other times she ignores the very same whispers.

Times like this where she's lost to the selfish part of her that came to life the night Katherine whisked her away to OZ, nights like these Bonnie's not in control of her hands—not in control of the little smirk she gives Damon whose pressed against her from the front, his forehead pressed against hers, mingling sweat, his hands on her hips as he grinds into her, he smiles back and his stupid stolen eyes flicker like methane. She brings her hand up and curls it in Matt's hair and gets a happy little snarl in response—this isn't Matt, she _knows_ that, it registers, but only in her sub-conscious, on a level even Bonnie doesn't understand, something primal, it doesn't matter—because he's here, and he's tonging her pulse and his thumbs are dipping past the waste of her jeans, and his pelvis is rocking against hers and she's lost to the feelings, to the sensations of both boys attention and she can't hold onto her sanity, her piece of mind—her eyes flutter and she's putty in there misguided hands.

It's time like this that Bonnie wonders if she's a player or a pawn—either way she hates the answer

* * *

Exercise #2 comes in a rather expected sort, the whole gang is out and about in town—Bonnie holds Matt's hand to keep him calm, it's a consistent battle for control in his veins, the way he shutters, his eyes tightening and the sound of little snarls rippling free from his lips, but Bonnie is there, sending calming waves that turn his muscles to sand, but he does it, fights it, Damon walks on her left and she holds his hand too—she's not sure why, hasn't figured out the point of it, the point of them—but Damon pesters her until she does it, pouts, acts like a kid—

—something's are better left a mystery

—and as always Katherine takes point of her little group of mon-_stars. _All is well until there she's sent soaring by a hungry werewolf, who yes—has the balls to attack in broad daylight. Katherine being what she is reacts quick enough, landing on her feet and snarling, veins on point, and before long there wolf—jet black and huge—is accompanied by a pack, all of them squaring off in Time Square, under the giant TV—there's a coke commercial on.

* * *

They work well as a team and the fight ends fast—so fast that it seems there never was one at all. Bonnie lets go of Matt's hand and Matt lets go of Matt—his eyes change and his muscles flex, and he's a spiral of movement, zigzagging and dashing cutting through fur and flesh with Damon on his tail.

Bonnie doesn't acknowledge the darkness that sweeps in her bones when she summons her magic now, only the power that follows, the freedom to do anything, the freedom to ignore morality's chains and be what she was maybe always meant to be—she summons winds that send the wolves soaring, and lightning from a sunny sky that char them midflight, and it all looks like some Stan Lee shit—but it's what Katherine's always wanted—what she's strived for, and as Kat watches it unfold—no one seems to notice she's absent from the fight—she can only smile because this is it—this is her team, this is the thing that will give her the world, give her true eternity, now she's invincible and there's no one who could have possibly seen it coming.

* * *

He hates to admit—it twists his stomach and burns his throat, but he loves it—loves this, loves the part of him that is destruction—he acknowledges the fact that he's lost it, but he no longer cares, he's not in control—Matt's never not had to be in control, it's no longer Matt against the world because the world is running, he's no longer afraid of fate because he's it's maker—it's a sick complex that he thinks shouldn't apply to a high school jock with a 2.8 GPA, but it does, and he's never loved life more than he does as a ripper.

It's exhilarating, destructive, and wild—and it lets him forget. He's blinded to all the pesky emotional truths that wracked him as a human, blinded to all the bright spots of life—he'd thank Katherine-

—but even in his state, he can see that it's stupid to thank someone for turning you into a murder.

* * *

Back home the others panic—Matt's been missing for over a week, and as sad as it is, no one's ever been so glad that Matt has no one. Bonnie's disappearance is reaching catastrophic, and Stefan compels Mr. Bennett to think he's seen Bonnie every day for the past month that she's been missing.

Elena cries herself to sleep at night, won't acknowledge sanity, and when her mother Isobel makes herself known it sends the poor girl into a tailspin that even he can't deal with.

Caroline is more of a wreck than usual, and though he's unsure when it happened, that means something now—even the dark Tyler Lockwood is in a state—

Alaric works tirelessly to track them down but Stefan see's it in the teachers eyes, Stefan knows he can't trust him as far as he can throw him.

He's alone in this and he can't handle the thoughts that haunt his sleep, the thoughts that Katherine and Damon are behind it all, that Elena's friends—his friends, are somewhere dead, that this is fault, that returning to Mystic Falls has damned them all—and he knows it's dramatic, but he recognizes it as a personal truth, whatever has happened to them is only more for him to carry for an eternity

* * *

Damon kisses Bonnie and she doesn't know how to react—her world is spiraling and she's playing to many roles, her minds deteriorating and she's not in her right mind—

—that's how she justifies kissing him back, justifies the way her hands dive into his hair and her body molds to his, how she moans into the hunger that drives him to suck on her tong, to hug her so thigh that her breath gushes into his mouth—he kisses her until she forgets her name, her past and then he runs his tong along her lips and whispers into her neck

"That was just the beginning—I've got plans for you little witch, _big_ plans"

He chuckles when she shivers and then he's gone

* * *

The very next day Matt kisses her, and she's got no reason for kissing him back—no way to justify the hunger that's always just been there for her little golden boy, but she's his just as quick as she was Damon's and, where Damon was sensual—almost starving as he kissed her, Matt is desperate and fumbly—she gets it, this is his body fighting for peace, fighting for her, and she wants to give him that peace—so she kisses him, pools her hands in his hair and sucks on his bottom lip, sends her hands up his shirt to touch his chest, sends thrills of magic through his bones to calm his aching fangs, and force his veins to recede, and the kiss only intensifies as he gives her gratitude, affection—and something Bonnie's not sure she can deal with right now-

It's a distraction, he's—there a distraction and more than ever Bonnie's got to keep her head, because her bodies as good as gone.

* * *

He doesn't know _why _he likes the jock, there's no _real_ rhyme or reason behind it—and like most of things he doesn't need one to carry out a plan, so when Katherine and Bonnie go out, Damon taunts him, teases him, touches him and whispers things in the boys ear that force out his fangs and turns his eyes dark—and then Damon seals the deal with a nasty and dirty kiss that's all fang, and claws—then there flashing around the room, grabbing hair and snarling, knocking shit to the floor and Damon grins against his lips at the idea that he's responsible for the destruction of yet _another_ hotel room…

…Minor deats.

Though because _this_ is what he's after, the taste of fight on Matt's lips, the hunger and desperation that are born in the kiss from years of denial, feelings and urges that Damon knows Matt's just been _waiting_ to explore—which—it was almost painful to watch since Matt was almost always checking out his younger brother; which in turn is fine with Damon considering Damon's checked out Stefan once or twice himself, along with some other unsavory…morally ambiguous shit to be written and sold at a later day—and suddenly Damon is completely aware of why he's interested in the boy, why Damon's ripping his t-shirt into shreds and shoving his hands in the boys boxers—he reminds him of Stefan—it's sick and twisted but he's _just_ _like_ Stefan from the strong right wing morality, to the totally left side dark side, even as far as to say the hard line of their jaws and if he's facing his skeletons he's always wanted this, always wanted Stefan in this way—but his brother is, his brother through and through, so Damon recognizes this as settling—but there's more, more to the desperate way he returns Matt's kisses, and grinds his hips into the boys boxer covered crotch.

Moaning breathlessly into his neck as he thrusts emptily against his clothed pelvis, but Damon's a film noir kinda guy—he lives for the moment, no need to ponder the thoughtless when he's got right now—and right now he's got Matt Donovan underneath him and is slowly coaxing the blonde out of his boxers, so right now—Damon's got more important things to worry about

* * *

Matt's never blushed as hard as he has when Damon works his boxers down his hips—but he can't bring himself, refuses to stop—this is the new Matt right? and that Matt...likes dick just as much as he likes…er the other thing, in conclusion?

_Fuck it~_

* * *

Nobody asks why the room is in _shambles_—and it's probably better that way considering the copious amounts of sex hair, and backward clothing

Whatever's clever~  
…That's what grams always used to say?

* * *

Bonnie's a force to be reckoned with—it's exhilarating, being what she is, doing what she does—she knows she's just beginning, recognizes that she's a baby in a game of grown folk, but she also knows that she's not a fool—Katherine tests her daily, with the help of the boys, they surround her and come at her with everything they've got, Damon racing at her in that suicidal way only he can pull off, and she's sending him soaring with a thought—she's learned to channel her power without the need of her hands for the simple things—Matt's a different story, he's faster racing around so that she can't get a hit and smashing into her.

He sends her soaring but she rights herself—she's not good with levitation, but she's good enough that she can break her fall with the winds help. She thrusts out her arms and sends a gust into Matt's chest that has him seeing stars as he slams into someone's unsuspecting Prius on the campgrounds.

Katherine charges her then and Katherine is smarter, more calculated—Bonnie watches her movements and waits, and when she can feel Katherine's breath on her face, Bonnie whispers the words

_Centrum Terrae Consurgere Fratris - Ignis Terrae_

Roots rise from the ground and lash out smashing into Katherine's form and sending her hurtling backward into the very same Prius, this time setting off its alarm and destroying the windshield.

Ouch. Right in the wallet

* * *

That night spits up blood—it's a reminder that while she might be a goddess, she's got her limits.

It's also a reminder that her ancestors know what she's been doing and don't approve—that makes it a warning.

* * *

That same night Matt crawls into her bed in nothing but a pair of Hanes, his hair ruffled he barriers his face in her neck and hugs her to him, she lets him because she knows he needs this—at night she can see the change in his eyes, sometimes it's the ripper, but other times she sees Matt, on those nights he leaves bruises on her stomach from his hugs—he only does that because he needs an anchor during the nightmares

* * *

That's how she knows Matt's still there somewhere

* * *

Katherine doesn't expect the call—but she's not shocked by it either. She's been waiting for this, preparing for it, so when her phone rings and it's an unknown number she answers it with a smile

"hi honey, it's been a while"

The voice on the other end laughs, "yes, a while—what've you been up to dear? Not planning to kill your hubby I hope"

Katherine examines her nails, as if he can see just how much she doesn't care

"You know what they say~ hope is for those who don't act, and we both know you've been awfully _un-active _lately"

There's silence for a moment, "I suppose the opposite is true for you?"

"you suppose correctly" Katherine says strutting across the room, "but don't worry—I'm benevolent, it'll be quick, we've got a history you and I Klaus, that means something to a hopeless romantic like myself"

Klaus laughs, "oh there's that wit—"

Then his tone changes into a snarl

"—hope it's still there when your heads no longer attached to your shoulders" the phone bleeps and Katherine laughs

Got em on the run~

* * *

***REMINDER-this story completely disregards most of the original story line, so with Damon never meeting Alaric, the gang never really develop anything with him and so he never joins the "fray" so to speak, so most of them don't trust him, they've not been given reason to just yet***

Alrightyy so this was a rather peculiar one eh? A bit confusing in some places—if you were confused then I did my job, the idea of this chapter is for it to be jumbled, if your lost then you know how the characters feel—everybody even Damon, is in a precarious place right now, there all trying to decide what's reality and what's what they want it be, and that's especially hard for Bonnie.  
I know this chapter only had a flash of Bamon but like I said they'll be influential in the future, so hang in there, as for all of the surprises with Damon and Matt—that little tid bit will also play out in the future, from here on out, we get to the actual meat and potatos, we meet Klaus next chapter!

**SO KEEP READING AND ENJOYING, AND IF YOU'VE GOT THE TIME A REVIEW WOULD BE BEAUITUFL AND GRACIOUS, BUT IF NOT JUST ENJOY  
(or y'know…review anyway _…)**


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